Saturday, September 4, 2010


Sloan and I went to the Timponogas Storytelling Festival up in the canyon this weekend with our besties Lauren and Tom.

Now, before we go any further, you may be wondering who took these pictures. It was me, with my Canon PowerShot SD1100 (an innovative choice, no doubt). It may seem incredible that someone who has had no official photography training could capture scenes so captivating, let along with a camera that was purchased at Walgreens, but it would be wrong and selfish of me to think that I got here on my own. I'd like to thank my family and friends for their support and encouragement, and to the almighty for blessing me with such a powerful gift. I, like everyone else, hope that I can harness and refine my photographic talents to use them for the greater good.

ANYWAY, back to the storytelling festival! We went! They told a whole lot of scary stories, most of them taking place in the Mississippi backwoods, because swamps are just scary! Now, attending the festival was really a good thing and a bad thing. Good: It was fun, the stories were riveting, and we had an all-around good time. Bad: Sloan has taken up storytelling.

"Julia," you may be saying, "didn't you see this coming? Why did you take him with you? You know how impressionable Sloan is." The only answer I can give is patience--I'm a patient woman who is always hoping for the best when it comes to my husband's tendency to act out. *sigh* It's a weakness.

The Scene: In bed, Julia is lying on her side, and Sloan is lying beside her. He puts his arms around her, snuggles up close, and puts his mouth close to her ear. I recommend you read Sloan's parts out loud, since I painstakingly dictated this in the dialect he used.

Sloan: *raspy, cajun accent* Now, once dere wuz a farmuh. His name was Farmuh Dean.
Julia: No more stories.
Sloan: Farmuh Dean wuz a wealthy man. Dat man had looooots uh land. Shew wee! Lots! And he farmed cohn.
Julia: Stop talking. Wait,  he was farming "cone"?
Sloan: COHN.
Julia: Oh, corn. Got it. *sigh*
Sloan: *glare* Anyway, like I wuz sayin', Farmuh Dean wuz a rich ole man. And becuz a dat, he had da purtiest wife in town. And he sho did love dat woman. Her name wuz Angilette.
Julia: Angilette? Sounds kind of...slutty.
Sloan: Aaaaangilette. *nodding, eyes closed* It's french.
Julia: Are you...fantasizing about her?
Sloan: *opens eyes* summah evenin', some of dem boyz in town, dey thought it'd be funny to pull a prank on ole Farmuh Dean.
Julia: Oh, still goin, huh? *plugging ears, scoots away*
Sloan:*hugs Julia tightly from behind as she struggles* Dey dressed one a dem boyz up to look jusssssst like Ms. Angilette, so dey could fool ole Farmuh Dean. Dey got a big ole bucket a cohn syrup with red dye in it. And it look'd like bloooooood.
Julia: Wait, there's corn syrup in this story? Did they have that back then?
Sloan: I nevah did say dis wuz some ole time storay. Coulda happun'd yestaday.
Julia: *sigh*
Sloan: Welp, dey po'd dat cohn syrup allllll ovah dat boy dress'd up lak Angilette, to make it look lak she wuz dead. Den, dey ran out intuh Farmuh Dean's field and waited fo' him tuh show. And sho' nuf, dat farmuh came riiiight up on dat boy dressed up like Angilette, saw dat body in da moonlight cov'ed in blood, and ole Farmuh Dean's heart broke riiiight dere. And you know what he did?
Julia: *silence*
Sloan: *leans into Julia's ear, speaks louder and slower* DO YA KNOW WUT HE DIIIID?
Julia: What. WHAT. WHAT DID HE DO.
Sloan: He pull'd out a knife and stuck hisself right in da heart, yellin "ANGILETTE!"
Julia: *silence*
Sloan: *cups hands around mouth* "AAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNGIIIIIIIILEEEEEEEEEETE!" *melancholy sigh* Dose boyz wuz scared. Dey jump'd out dem cohn stalks and Farmuh Dean saw'm. His eyes got big as dinnah plates when he re-uh-lized what dey did. He held his bloody chest and said, "Boys, I'm gonna make sure you ain't nevah gonna fuh'get what ya did dis night. And my revenge is gonna be sweet...sweet as cohn syrup." *dramatic pause* And den ole Farmuh Dean died. *closes eyes, shakes head slowly* Dah end.
Julia: I can't believe--
Sloan: * puts his finger on Julia's lips* Shhhhh, Shh. Storytime is ovah. Go ta sleep. *rolls over, turns out light*


  1. I wonder where all of this talent sloan has was when we were around the campfire this summer. He must have been mesmerized by Richard's poo song. I look forward to the next family vacation so Sloan can continue his story.

  2. hahahahahahahahahaaaaaa hahaha.

  3. I laughed so hard I cried while Jason was putting Avery down to bed...pretty sure I made so much noise Jason'll get mad at me when she wakes up.

  4. Yay! thanks to Becky I can blog-stalk you now! So we were totally there the same night. Good times indeed. Although there wasn't any storytelling in the middle of the night afterward for me... Thank goodness! ;-)

  5. Masterful. Read it out loud, and collapsed laughing. I don't know what's better: Sloan's story or your retelling.

  6. sung: "Angilette, the best a man can get"

  7. what a freak! did he make that story up?! How could you sleep after that??!!! I think the talent lies in your ability to spell what he was saying.

  8. AHAHAHA!!! Oh my gosh?!?! And you slept after that?! Holy cow! What a sounds too good though. You should ask him if he ever knew a Farmer Dean!! haha :)